The Unwelcome Warlock

solutions. We can’t send you back to your old homes; the past is past and gone. Even the most powerful wizards can’t travel backward through time. All we can do is give you a place to stay until you can find something better. Some of you will probably find that you do still have family, or that you do have friends who haven’t forgotten you. If you were snatched away on the Night of Madness, unless you’re a child, then presumably you know a trade. Yes, you’ve lost whatever tools or inventory you had, but you can start anew. If you’re a child, even if your parents are gone, you can find an apprenticeship — the World isn’t that different. I know you’ve lost a lot; we all have, myself included. Still, you’re alive, you’re safe, and you can make new lives for yourselves. We’ll give you a bed until you’re back on your feet, maybe offer some advice — but that’s all we can do.”

He paused to let that sink in. Kirris looked around at the listeners. Most of them seemed to be accepting Hanner’s explanation calmly.

“Now, there are some complications,” Hanner said. “First, as I’m sure most of you remember, back in Aldagmor that there was a warlock who called himself Vond who somehow still had his magic, even with the Source gone. How that happened is a mystery, but apparently he found another source that he can use, one that the rest of us are deaf to, and he’s as powerful a warlock as ever. Fifteen years ago he fled to the Small Kingdoms to escape the Calling, and when he found his new magic he built himself an empire there. Well, now that the Calling is gone, he decided he’d rather come home to Ethshar than stay out there lording over the barbarians, and he came here, to this house. He’s declared himself the new Chairman of the Council of Warlocks, and since he’s the only warlock left, no one can very well argue with him about that. He’s claimed the master’s apartment on the second floor. While I own this house, and you are all my guests, you need to realize that the Great Vond is a supremely powerful and very short-tempered magician; do not get in his way, or argue with him. He doesn’t care that I own the house; he treats it as his, and does whatever he pleases. No one can protect you if he decides he doesn’t like you. He throws people around if they annoy him, and at least once, he’s killed someone without really meaning to — smashed his head against a wall. He regretted that, I think, but it hasn’t made him any more careful, which means you need to be careful around him. Does everyone understand that?”

Several of the listeners exchanged worried glances. A woman asked, “How will we know him? What does he look like?”

“He’s tall, thin, and pale,” Hanner said, “but you’ll know him because his feet don’t touch the ground.”

That elicited murmurs, and Kirris thought there might have been more questions had Hanner not forestalled them by launching into another speech.

“I’m sure you’ve all noticed that this is a big house,” he said. “My Uncle Faran, who built it, wanted a mansion the equal of any in Ethshar. All the same, we have had dozens of you turn up here looking for shelter — hundreds, actually, with more arriving all the time. We can’t find space for all of you here unless we pack you in so tightly you’d be better off in the Hundred-Foot Field. Fortunately, we have a solution. Seventeen years ago, just before I was Called, I bought a magical tapestry from a wizard, the same kind of tapestry you saw the wizards using to send our fellow Called warlocks home to Ethshar of the Sands and Ethshar of the Rocks and Sardiron of the Waters. This one, though, doesn’t go anywhere in the World; instead it goes to a sunny little village in another world. I thought we might be safe from the Calling there, but it wasn’t ready in time, and I was Called before I could use it. It works now, though, and I have it hanging upstairs, ready to take you to that village.”

“Can we get back?” someone called. Kirris did not see who had spoken.

“Yes, you can,” Hanner replied. “There’s another tapestry in the village that will bring you safely back to the attic of this house.”

“Who lives in the village?” someone else asked.

“Nobody,” Hanner answered. “Or rather, it was deserted until today. Now dozens of your compatriots are settling in there.”

“Is it safe?”

Hanner hesitated slightly; Kirris wasn’t sure everyone noticed. “I think so,” he said. “But we don’t really know. It’s magic. More specifically, it’s wizardry, and I’m sure most of you know that wizardry draws its power from chaos. We can’t be sure there aren’t various hazards in there. I can say, though, that I’ve visited the village and come back safely, and the other people who tried it all came back safely. It seems to be safe.” He straightened up. “Now, I’m sure most of you are tired and hungry. We’ve sent some supplies through the tapestry to the magical village, and there are still empty houses there, waiting for you. If you would follow me upstairs, I’ll show you the tapestry, and you can see what you think.”

Kirris was not eager to draw attention to herself, but stepping through a Transporting Tapestry into some miniature universe was not part of her plans. She joined the crowd, but as they climbed the stairs she maneuvered herself close to Hanner and murmured in his ear, “I don’t know about this tapestry thing. I don’t trust wizardry. Could I stay here in the house?”

Hanner glanced at her. “I can’t promise you a bed,” he said. “I won’t throw you out on the street, but Vond might.”

“I’ll risk it, if you don’t mind.”

“Please yourself, then, but do come take a look at the tapestry first. You might change your mind.”

Kirris didn’t argue, but let herself gradually fall behind the others as they made their way up three flights to the dusty bedroom where the magical tapestry hung. By the time they reached the room she was at the rear of the group, and stood in the doorway, not entering the chamber, as Hanner presented the tapestry.

Kirris had to admit the scene it depicted was beautiful — blue sky, green grass, bright sun. She was not tempted, though; she preferred the real world to some wizard’s fantasy. She listened as Hanner explained how each person had to step aside to make way for the next, because the spell probably wouldn’t work if the reality no longer matched the image, and watched as the first former warlock timidly reached out, touched the fabric, and vanished.

Then she slipped back out into the hallway, and hurried down the stairs, back to the second floor and to the carved door at the top of the grand staircase.

The door was closed, but she was a witch; ordinary physical barriers did not stop her. This room was supposed to be where Vond slept; she reached out, trying to sense him, to feel his thoughts.

It wasn’t hard. He was there, all right, and he was definitely not sleeping. His thoughts were clear, and focused on what he was doing.

Kirris had never really given much thought to the erotic possibilities in warlockry, but Vond obviously had. Magic that provided unlimited stamina, and allowed its wielder to move anything, exert pressure anywhere, heat or cool surfaces — Kirris wondered why she had never before heard stories about the amorous prowess of warlocks. Now that she observed it in action, it seemed obvious. She knew that some witches used sexual magic, she had dabbled in it herself a few times, but she had never heard of it in connection with warlocks.

Maybe the Calling had distracted normal warlocks, or concerns about being Called had kept them from experimenting freely. Vond, however, had no such concerns. The woman with him was happily exhausted, barely able to stay awake; they had clearly been at it for quite some time.

Kirris looked around. She could hear voices from downstairs — more homeless warlocks, perhaps? She could not just stay here at the door; sooner or later someone would see her and want to know what she was doing there. She would be too busy using her witchcraft elsewhere to maintain the spell that kept people from noticing her.

Ideally, she would slip into Vond’s bedchamber and hide in a wardrobe or closet, but she could not see how to manage that with the couple awake in there — they weren’t that intent on their activity, and if the door opened, they would notice. Or at least Vond would; that girl might not stay conscious much longer.

She might be able to hide her entrance with magic, but she was unsure how effective witchcraft would be against Vond. She preferred not to risk it. But the bed was against the west wall, and one of the guest bedrooms adjoined it. She crossed to that room’s door and tested the latch. The door swung open.

There were signs of recent occupancy, including several bundles of clothing and a stack of books on the floor by the bed, but no one was in the room. Kirris slipped in, and closed the door behind her. Kirris looked at the